goodbye
by Yui Miyamoto
Summary: Momiji gives a momento to its rightful owner.


**title – goodbye.  
pairing – hatori + momiji  
rating – pg  
description – Momiji gives a momento to its rightful owner.**

**Disclaimer - Furuba isn****'****t mine.  
**  
Tears of the past  
flood into the present.

Every day,  
as I live and die,  
I hope to become  
someone who will be proud

of my future,  
with the entanglements of bitter memories  
unable to touch me anymore.

Someday,  
I will be beyond  
Their reach.

**goodbye.  
By miyamoto yui**

There were those high-pitched, angry voices again.

Sometimes you wondered if they should have been part of the background. I wondered with wide eyes awayfrom the lively scene before me if this was more energetic than anything I could have watched on  
television.  
They acted like was the cat and the mouse chasing one another like Yuki and Kyo whenever they saw one another. Even if it was the important annual New Year's banquet, this didn't stop them from wanting to destroy each other.

I glimpsed at the woman who shouted at the man. Sometimes, I didn't associate them with myself. And it wasn't because I didn't care and that I was ashamed. I just wondered if this was how you were supposed to act if your mom didn't like you.

With a glimpse through the nearly closed door, I saw them. She was crying all over again and because I was just here, she was simply irritated. Was every home like this? How were the other Sohma families on this lot?

Why was I the one born with this curse? Didn't they warn her?

Certainly, I didn't ask for this either. Yet, by the looks of it, she didn't really blame him.

Her eyes always looked past me.

It was ME that was at fault.  
But how could you blame someone that had no defense at such a wild notion? It was beyond my words. And it was outside the limits of any little kid.

So, I just continued to watch television while hugging onto a pillow. I couldn't get my teddy bear, which was in the room they were shouting in. Rather, they were trying to understand each other without really intending to. Their words didn't mean anything. The calm voice of the man opposed to the hysterical breakdown utterances of the woman caused unconscious judgment in favor of the one who needed more pity.  
But I felt sorry for both them and more so for my mother, who couldn't understand. I felt bad that my dad could not see things from her point of view either.

And neither even bothered to look at mine.

Then, I heard it.

There was a large rip. I glanced away from the television and faced the open crack again. I turned around and both my father and my face turned pale even though we weren't looking at one another in the eye.

He never raised his voice, but he finally shouted, "Then would you rather forget everything and start over again? We're not supposed to tell anyone, but the doctor can do it. Hatori-san has the responsibility of doing it."  
Her face froze. Her eyes became wide as she took his hand and a strange smile encroached her disturbed, yet beautiful face. "Take me. Take it away as soon as possible."

With that, they were gone without a second thought.

As for me, I crawled into the war zone they just occupied and battled on. I knelt and looked at my most prized possession on the ground.

"You gave it to me, Mommy. How could you?"

It was the first and last thing she ever gave me. I didn't care if it was a bribe to stay away, but she never talked to me so gently before.  
"This is for you if you're quiet for me, Momiji." She hugged me for a whole minute, longer than any moment that I had been alive.

And now, Michael was gone? A stuff animal couldn't die to them because it wasn't alive. But to me, he was an extension of myself.

What was death? I looked at the doorway that they left open in their hurry. Did it mean losing her memories? Would I die like this in her mind? Without a second thought?

I began to shake as I looked at the stuffed animal I cradled in my arms. Did it mean being torn apart like this?  
What was I supposed to believe?

Then, I too ran out into the cold.

I ran out into the garden as the rain fell down with no mercy, not caring at what it would forcefully shear open with its vicious hands of water. The rain was awesome and funny that way. When it drizzled, it was like morning dew or mist that touched everything so lightly as if the sky were just taking a moist breath, your cold winter breath almost wanting to become crystallized. But when the storm came, you were never quite sure to what degree it was coming to hit. You just knew it would leave definite, permanent damage.  
The weather people could have predicted all they wanted, but they were never right. After all, weather was a part of nature. It just existed that way as when, simply, you would laugh at a playful joke or when you were tickled. However, the circumstance of being tickled or being told a joke couldn't be determined.

They were just there. "The right moment", as they said.

I prayed and prayed as I stood out in the rain that someone would fix the ripped teddy bear that they decided to quarrel over as I peacefully watched television. Things seemed more real in pictures than when I touched them. That's pretty weird.  
Then, I walked a few steps more to present the stuffing, the two part teddy that should have been one. I wondered what did I do wrong? They hurt me too.

Can teddy bears truly be the reflections of ourselves?

I couldn't cry. I was traumatized. How _could _they kill my only friend?

I dropped Michael to the ground as I knelt on the ground outlining its body with my hurt eyes.

I couldn't hear anything but the rain as it became louder and louder. I coughed to make sure I was still alive. There was nothing I could do and it made me mad and sad at the same time. I didn't know how to feel. I didn't know what I felt more of at that very moment.

No one bothered to take care of me. People were so selfish.

I took up my teddy bear and looked around. I went back into my house. I carefully looked at my teddy bear and took out the sewing supplies that my parents kept in one closet.

Then, I went to my room and began to push the thread through the eye of the needle. I tried my best to imitate all the people I had ever seen sewing. I was going to put him back together.

There was no one like Michael.

And I was going to keep him even if he was broken.

I poked myself and sucked on my fingers whenever they bled. "But even if my all fingers bleed, I will sew him up. That's all I can do."

"Then let me show you how to do it."  
I looked up to see Hatori-san at the door. I blinked my eyes and kept my teddy bear close to me.

I gave him a grave look. Adults shouldn't be trusted anymore.

"Why are you here?" I asked him as my eyes became suspicious.

"I wanted to see how you were doing. Your parents came to see me."  
I nodded while unable to look into his eyes. I stared at Michael. "Yes, I know."

Hatori took me into his lap and took out some wipes and band-aids from his lab coat. He didn't say anything.  
I looked up at him. "Do you always bring that kind of stuff around?"  
"Just for precaution," he answered matter-of-factly.  
I nodded as I watched him wipe my fingers and put band-aids on every single one. When he was finished, he held my hands for a moment and brushed his thumb gently over my fingers.

I blushed from his warmth. I never thought he could do that. He was always so stiff whenever I went in for a check-up.

Without removing me from his lap, he took the bear and the sewing supplies. "Just watch and learn."  
Silently, even though he looked tired and overworked, he diligently put my bear together. And it wasn't just for it to be hanging together. Hatori took the time to make sure it looked like Michael was all patched up, without any indication that he was ripped by the person who gave it to me.

I watched him in awe and in frustration. I wanted to tell him that I could have done it myself, but I knew  
he wouldn't have let me

Not with that kind of face. He softly took care of Michael and smiled gently at me.

But I blurted out, "You don't have to come here to cheer me up. I'm used to it."  
When he finished the bear, he pulled my arm and hugged me. "No, you shouldn't be."

And that's when I cried. I cried so loudly that I almost didn't recognize my own voice. I forgot what it meant to talk in more than five word sentences. I forgot what it meant to express anything at all to anyone because I couldn't tell anyone how I felt when no one else wanted to listen.

Click. The front door opened.

As my parents stepped into the house, Hatori took me into his arms as I carried Michael in between my hands. When we were walking through the hallway, he went past them and glanced at them. "He'll be staying with me tonight. I'm sure you wouldn't mind."

I couldn't even look at my parents as I held my eyes tightly closed and my head firmly planted on his shoulder. I didn't want them to see me cry.

Hatori finished, "I don't mean to pry into your affairs, but to unnecessarily make others cry for your own selfishness…you need to grow up."

He left just like that. I always thought he was cool like that.

**+/+/+/+/**

Time is a funny thing. You could have grown up, but the pain was still there as if time never passed between that cruel moment and the "present" that you lived in.

My heart cringed. Until now and to the end of time, I would still fight.

"You still sleep with that thing?"

I was still staring at Michael when he called out to me.

I smiled as I turned my head to answer, "But, of course."  
He laughed as he entered our room. It was rare for him to even do that much, considering all the things that ran through his head.

When he pulled on his tie as he sat on the bed, I smiled while leaning my body on his right side. Then, I crawled into his lap with my knees on his thighs and closed my eyes to kiss him sweetly on the lips. The usual reserved doctor stopped unbuttoning his shirt as his right hand went up my neck and into my hair. He kissed me back while I still held onto my bear.  
I pulled my head back to catch my breath as he held my back with both of his hands.

"So, was that my graduation present, Hari?" I teased as I leaned forward to poke him on the forehead.

He smirked as he shook his head. "Actually, it's multi-layered."

I blinked at him. "Multi-layered?"  
"Meaning, there's a lot of stuff."  
"Sounds fun!"  
Hatori nodded his head. "I'm sure you'll be amused."

"I like anything you give me." I looked down at Michael. "Before we do that, I have to do something."

"Okay."

I gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I'll be right back."  
Grabbing a gift bag with tissue in it, I ran out to meet her.

I took a deep breath and knocked on their door. Fortunately, she opened the door. "Hello, Momiji-kun."  
I smiled as I tried to imprint her impressively pretty features into my heart. "I wanted to give you something for your birthday."  
"Oh, you shouldn't have." She smiled and shook her head as I handed her the silvery, shiny bag.

"It's also my high school graduation. Go us!" I laughed as she patted my shoulder.

"Congratulations!" she told me out of politeness.

I caught a glimpse of my father in the background, but I tried to avoid his eyes. I would get scolded, but I didn't care anymore.

What mattered most was now, right?

"Please, take a look at your gift, Mrs. Sohma." I blinked at her as she reached into the bag. "I know this doesn't make any sense, but I wanted to give this to you."

And in that moment, she gave me a strange expression. And yet, she didn't reject it. She smiled in a sweet way and not in that stiff manner she always gave me. As if-

As if she always knew.

"Thank you. How did you know I loved teddy bears?"

I held my hands calmly in front of me so that she wouldn't know I was quivering. Holding back the tears, I shook my head. "I had a hunch. Oh, by the way, his name is Michael."

"Michael?" Her eyes blinked while looking at him. Once more, she faced me. "You're such a nice boy, Momiji-kun. I'm sure your parents are proud, especially your mom."

Oddly, she reached out and touched my head. The cold hand that used to slap me away was so warm that I blushed at her tender touch.

"I hope she is," I said as I stepped back.

Mother blinked at me while her hand was suspended in air for a few seconds. "Momiji-kun…"  
I took another step back. "After all, they say that I look exactly like her."

But my heart isn't like yours, Mother.  
I…I don't need you anymore.

It doesn't matter if you remember me now, Mother. You lost yourself when you forgot me.

With a confident smile and determined eyes, I was able to tell her the one thing I thought I would never accept. "Goodbye."

I turned around and quickly left.

I ran home and into Hatori's waiting arms. While crying, I smiled at my mixed emotions.

Today…

Today I have triumphed. From here on out, I shall overcome the memories that have oppressed me all these years. Hatori's arms wrapped around my body as he kissed the top of my head. I looked up into his face and touched his damaged eye.

Yes, by overcoming these memories, we'll learn the real meaning of living.  
And for ourselves.

For no one holds the way we want our lives to be.  
No one.

Happily, I pulled away from Hatori and pulled his head. "I can't wait to get your presents!"  
He rubbed my tears away and nodded his head solemnly with a clear, amused smirk.

Mother, thank you for making me this strong.

I finally looked at you straight in the eye and said with a sincere, happy smile,  
"I made it without you."

**Owari. / The End.**

**Author****'****s note:** I still have a little of my cold, but I went ahead and wrote this anyway. It was relentlessly bugging me for three days and I just broke down after much contemplation. I don't know if it even showed here because the overall structure is quite simple. However, it was something that was beginning to be written. And who was I to stop it from coming out?

The voice of Momiji (thinking voice, not the seiyuu in this case) and his character are two things I enjoy the best about Fruits Basket. And so, when I wrote some of my short story, I thought that I'd just convert it into a fic about Momiji instead.

**January 7, 2005, 1:57 AM**


End file.
